


Casablanca

by Oakstone730



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-12
Updated: 2014-03-12
Packaged: 2018-01-13 01:26:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1207702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oakstone730/pseuds/Oakstone730
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Draco decides to start exploring gay dance clubs in London, no one is more surprised than Harry when the one he picks is Harry’s favorite club, the Casablanca.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Casablanca

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [“Of all the gin joints, in all the towns, in all the world”](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1006755) by [digthewriter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/digthewriter/pseuds/digthewriter). 



> **Disclaimer:** Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended. The original storyline that this story follows was created by **digthewriter**.
> 
>  **Author's notes** : I clapped my hands together with pleasure the moment I opened the email with my Remix assignment - I GOT DiG!!!! Completely Awesome. I had a pretty good idea I was going to Remix ‘Gin Joints’ but I had so much fun reading through all of DiG’s stories making sure that there wasn’t another one that I should do. I do hope you like it, DiG! A thousand thank yous are owed to O for her wonderful beta’ing.

A bellow sounded from the other room. Harry turned over burying his head under the pillow and hoping that whoever it was would go away. Only family would dare make that much racket in someone’s Floo early in the morning; and he had a pretty good idea which Weasley it was. The shouts stopped and there were a few moments of blissful quiet before Harry’s nose twitched: coffee. The deep rich fragrance of freshly brewed coffee.

His head protested vigorously as he sat up and looked at the clock. Charlie. Groaning he stood up and fumbled around until he found a pair of pyjama bottoms. Slipping them on, he tied the drawstring closed as he followed the smell of the coffee into the front room where a freckled, muscular arm was sticking out of the fireplace, holding a mug of coffee.

Harry slumped in front of the fireplace and took the mug. The arm disappeared and the smirking face of Charlie Weasley reappeared in its place. “Thought that would do the trick.”

“You do realize it is only five o’clock here?” Harry grumbled, clutching the mug with both hands as he slumped against the side of the fireplace.

“That I do, but I’m off to depths of the reserve today, didn’t think I’d be back in time to wish you a happy birthday.”

“So you decided to wake me up to do it?” he responded, not bothering to cover his mouth as he yawned.

Charlie grinned. “Take another sip and let it start working. I brewed it extra-strong, just for you.”

“Ta.” Harry closed his eyes and inhaled the bitter fragrance. It was already chasing away the vague headache and dehydration he had from the night before.

“Late night?”

“The usual, you know.”

“Casablanca?”

“Where else?” Harry shrugged, “I like it there.”

“See Mark?” Charlie asked casually but Harry could hear Charlie’s need to know behind the question.

“Yup.” Harry glanced up from his coffee, seeing the expression on Charlie’s face, he added, “He looked good.”

“With anyone?”

“No, he spent the night talking to Malfoy, of all people.”

“What? You mean _Draco_ Malfoy?”

“Yeah, I couldn’t believe it when I saw them talking together. Don’t know how he ended up at the Casablanca. He said he wanted to learn about Muggles,” Harry said as the full details of the night before came back to him.

“And the first place he goes is a Muggle gay bar?”

“Yup, although he claims he isn’t bent.” Harry grinned at Charlie, “We all had to start somewhere.”

It had been exactly a year ago that Charlie had taken Harry to the Casablanca, not telling him anything about what kind of place it was. Harry hadn’t known where to look first. After ten minutes of Harry staring open-mouthed at the gyrating half-naked men on the dance floor, his erection ill-concealed by his tee-shirt and tight jeans, Charlie had leaned over and whispered in Harry’s ear, “You might want to consider all the possibilities out there, before you start up with Ginny again.” Harry had never gotten back together with Ginny, and the Casablanca had quickly become his favorite club.

Charlie shifted to get a more comfortable place in the fire. “You don’t think that he and Mark...”

“You know how Mark is, he is always looking out for the virgins in the club. Why don’t you come to my party there tonight, talk to Mark--”

“No. We’ve hashed it over how many times? Never gets us anywhere.”

“So you are both going to be miserable instead.”

“Bugger off, Harry.”

“Then stop waking me up in the middle of the night to expecting me to tell you if and when Mark pulls.”

“How are things at work? Your boss still mad at you and Lucas?”

Harry knew the taunt about Lucas was a deliberate jab to get back at him for mentioning Mark. “Nice segue, very smooth.”

Charlie just looked at him and Harry relented. “Fine, I’ll drop it about Mark, but I still think you both are making a mistake. But the department is easing up about the thing with Lucas, finally.”

“Tell me again why you two were so stupid?”

“We were on a case and Lucas bet me a blowjob that his suspect was the perp we were after,” Harry said with a grin. “And he was right.”

“And far be it from you to renege on a bet.”

“Gryffindor, all the way, besides, I’m only going to be twenty once.” Harry gave a shrug. “Two years ago I thought I was going to die a virgin, see no reason to hold back now.”

“Not saying that you shouldn’t kick back but you might want to think about not mixing up your clubbing life with your professional one.” Charlie sounded and acted like a big brother, reminding Harry why they’d never been tempted to pair off together.

“I think we learned our lesson, got reamed out by Robards.”

“Bill thinks that maybe you did it as a grand way of coming out, so you didn’t have to worry any more about getting caught.”

Harry took another sip of coffee, grateful for its rich aroma that was starting to wake him up. “I stopped caring about that months ago.”

“Yeah, but you never knew when it was going to happen, now you don’t have to worry about it.”

“Too early in the morning for Weasley philosophy.”

“Right.” Charlie glanced over his shoulder and said something to somebody behind him. Turning back to Harry, he said, “I’ve got to go; they’re ready to move out. Do me a favor and watch out for Mark, don’t let him get tangled with the likes of Malfoy.”

Before he could remind him that he didn’t have the right to worry about Mark anymore, Charlie’s head disappeared from the fireplace and the flames went out. Sighing, Harry stood up and set the mug on the fireplace to give back to Charlie the next time he Floo-called.

Looking out the window there was a faintest hint of orange breaking up the pre-dawn sky. Harry shut the curtains and went back to bed, hoping to get another hour of sleep before having to get ready to go to the Ministry.

Stretching out on the bed he thought about the night before. Casablanca was his escape from the unrelenting pressure of the wizarding world. A place where he could relax, grind against someone on the dark dance floor and not have to worry about it showing up in the Prophet the next day. To walk in and see Malfoy talking to Mark had been a shock. In his V-necked tee and dark jeans that cupped his arse perfectly; Malfoy had almost looked like he belonged in the place, if not for his shocked expression as he took in the action on the floor.

Malfoy at the club was far different from who he’d seen at the potion shop the day before, when he and Lucas had stopped by his shop. Malfoy had been had been very professional, dressed in his potioneer robes, answering their questions. The attitude from their Hogwarts days seemed to have disappeared. Harry supposed they both outgrown that, after so much loss during the war there really was no need for it.

He hadn’t talked to Malfoy at the club for very long before going off to dance with Bradley. Harry pulled down his pyjamas and started to stroke himself as he remembered how much of a turn-on it had been to be on the dance floor, knowing that Malfoy was watching from the balcony, knowing that Malfoy was watching them dance.

After Malfoy had left the club, Harry had let Bradley suck him, but as he’d leaned against the club wall, looking down as Bradley took in his cock, he’d wished it was blond hair, instead of brown, that his fingers were threaded through. With a groan, Harry arched his head back against the pillow, coming at the thought of Draco Malfoy’s lips around his cock.

*_*_*_*

The next night, Mark and Malfoy walked into the club together and Harry’s chest burned with jealousy as he saw Malfoy, wearing jeans so tight that they must have been magicked on, laughing at something Mark had said.

It was an hour later that Mark pulled Malfoy onto the dance floor. Harry retreated to a far corner where he could watch them. Malfoy looked amazing dancing under the flashing purple lights, and Harry watched as Mark gently teased and encouraged Malfoy to relax and start moving naturally to the music, Mark’s hands were on Malfoy’s hips as they started to move in unison to the music. Mark was shooing away other dancers who tried to get to close and Malfoy didn’t seem to be interested in dancing with anyone other than Mark.

Seeing a couple of the regulars eyeing Draco from the bar, Harry wandered over to hear what they were saying. “I’d like to take that one for a ride, I bet he’s a howler.” Thomas, a brawny Muggle who had a reputation for bragging about all of his hook-ups. “I would take him from the back, so I could-”

Harry turned and stuck out his arm, deliberately knocking into Thomas, making him spill his beer. “I’m sorry Thomas, don’t know how that happened.” Harry said apologetically, “Guess I was distracted by hearing you talk about my friend.”

“Who?” Thomas asked, his voice shaking a little. Harry pressed in threateningly, he hadn’t been through nearly two years of Auror training for nothing. “My friend, Draco. Mark is dancing with him right now. I’d hate for anyone to think that he was interested in a shove-up against the wall.”

“You know the bloke Mark is dancing with?” Thomas’s mate asked.

“Yes.” Harry started at both of them, “We are old friends, good friends. Understood?”

“Yes. Message received.” Thomas said hastily as he pulled his side-kick away. Harry smirked as they left: it wouldn’t take long for Thomas to spread the word that Malfoy was off-limits.

Harry watched as Mark and Malfoy left the dance floor and Mark went off to dance with someone else. Harry saw his chance and went over to talk to Malfoy.

“You looked nice out there,” Harry said as he came to stand next to Malfoy. the look on Malfoy’s face showed him that he didn’t believe Harry. “No, I mean it, Malfoy. Mark’s a great bloke, I am glad you’re getting along so well with him.”

“We are just friends.” Malfoy snapped back, setting his half-finished drink on the bar.

“I know, I didn’t mean it like that—" Harry tried again, “I just meant it’s nice to see you having fun, that’s all.”

“What does that mean?”

“Just that I haven’t really seen you in your element—having fun in a very long time. When I stopped by your shop the other day, I just saw how dedicated you were to the job. I wondered if you ever had any fun anymore.” Harry took a seat next to Malfoy, hoping that he wouldn’t throw his drink in Harry’s face.

“It’s not your job to look out for me,” Malfoy said. “The war is over, the trials are over, you are not indebted to me—"

“I know, but I can still care, Draco,” Harry said, almost stumbling as he said Draco. Clearly Malfoy didn’t think he was being sincere and maybe the fact that they still called each other by their last name was one of the reasons.

“I’ve found someone else to care for me,” Malfoy said, pointing towards where Mark was engaged in a rather steamy kissing session with one of the club regulars. Malfoy started laughing, seeming to understand the ridiculousness of his statement, and Harry joined in even as hurt for Charlie and Mark. It would be for the best for both men if they just moved on and if this was how Mark needed to do it, all the better for him.

“Do you want to dance?” Harry asked, hoping to get a chance to feel how Malfoy’s arse felt in the jeans that left little to the imagination.

“No, thanks,” Malfoy said. “I am not bent.”

*_*_*_*

In the weeks that followed, Harry spent more time talking with Mark and Draco – he’d finally accepted that Draco was _Draco_ and not Malfoy – at the club, and eventually being invited by Mark to join them for Sunday brunch.

Draco’s body language would change the minute Harry walked up to their table in a restaurant or in the club, his shoulders would become tense and his jaw clench whenever Harry got too close to him. Harry could understand Draco’s perspective: Harry probably would’ve felt the same discomfort and distrust if their places were reversed and Harry was the one just getting used to the idea of being bent. Not that Malfoy was bent, of course, Harry thought with a smirk. That Draco was still in denial was his own business but Harry had seen Draco eyeing enough arses in the club to know it was just a matter of time. Harry’s stomach gave a little twist at the thought of Draco with someone else. He didn’t think any of the regulars would try to push themselves on him, Harry had seen to that, but he didn’t want Draco being preyed on by someone cruising.

He loved watching Draco on the dance floor, the platinum white of his hair reflecting the purple, shimmering lights of the dance floor. Draco would lift his arms above his head, while dancing, making his shirt rise up revealing the taut flatness of his abdomen. The night that Mark gave Draco lessons in the fine art of grinding, Harry had watched from across with room, a burning sensation in the pit of his stomach as he watched them together on the dance floor. The feeling became all the worse when Draco started dancing with other partners. He knew it wouldn’t be long until Draco hooked up with someone and there wasn’t a chance that it was going to be Harry.

When the inevitable happened, Harry missed it because he was with the Weasleys celebrating the birth of George and Angelina’s baby. The next night, Mark told Harry that Draco had kissed someone on the dance floor and Harry’s chest burned in jealousy. When Draco arrived later in the evening Harry had to fight the feelings as he talked to Draco.

“So, first kiss, huh?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Draco said, but before Harry could say anything more, he turned and walked away.

Harry looked and saw him heading up the stairs to the balcony. “What’s wrong? Was it something I said?” he asked Mark.

“Don’t know, he seemed fine before you got here,” Mark said with a smile as he sipped his beer. Right. Of course. Draco still didn’t like him.

Harry stewed at the bar with Mark for a few minutes but when Mark went off to dance, Harry went upstairs to find Draco to see if he could get him to talk to him. Draco was at the balcony railing, staring down at the dancers, he hardly even gave Harry a glance when Harry came up to him.

“What’s the matter? What did I do?” he asked.

“Don’t act so innocent, Potter.”

“What are you talking about, Draco?” he asked in confusion but Draco didn’t answer, his hands gripped the railing tightly as he continued to look down at the dance floor. Harry stood there waiting for Draco to say something, anything. He didn’t know why Draco was cutting him out but it was obvious that Harry must have done something to make him mad. After several failed attempts to get him to talk, Harry gave up in frustration and returned to the main floor.

Seeing one of his regular partners, Harry asked him to dance, determined to forget about Draco and whatever had gotten him in a twist. When Draco showed up on the dance floor a little while later with Mark, it seemed as though he kept his back to Harry, which was fine with Harry, he was done with trying to figure out Draco Malfoy and his fits of moodiness.

Harry turned down the invite from Mark for brunch the following Sunday, joining the Weasleys instead, for their weekly Sunday dinner. It was good to spend time with them again especially when George walked in the door proudly carrying his son. After dinner when most of the Weasleys has spread out into the garden to escape from the warmth of the house, Charlie had firecalled.

Harry watched Charlie beam with delight when George asked him to be the baby’s godfather. George had spent the summer after the war ended with Charlie in Romania, when he’d returned George’s terrible grief over Fred, while still present, had become manageable. Molly and Arthur had given a sigh of relief when George’s hand on the Weasley clock had finally moved from “grave danger” to “home”.

“You’ll have to be here for the naming ceremony in three months, and there will be absolutely no excuses about hatching eggs or rampaging horntails, Charlie,” Angelina said sternly. Harry was glad that at last something was forcing him to return.

*_*_*_*

After a dreadful week of work, he and Ron had been assigned to spend every night watching an abandoned warehouse. On the dawn of Thursday morning, as they’d been fighting to stay awake in a sleeting rain, they’d gotten the owl that the dark wizards had shown up at a tea shop in Surrey. _Three nights of sleep lost for nothing_ , Harry thought darkly as he and Ron wrote up their reports, in triplicate, to confirm that nothing had happened at the warehouse. Finally released to go home and sleep, Harry spent a restless afternoon tossing and turning in his bed before dragging himself to the club only to learn from Mark that Draco wasn’t coming.

“What is the story between you two?” Mark asked. “I’ve been trying to figure it out and--”

“It’s complicated,” Harry said with a grimace, “And I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing.”

“I noticed you aren’t pulling nearly as much as you used to. For a while there wasn’t a night that you were here that you didn’t end up in the back room.”

He glanced at the dark corridor that led off the dance floor. He’d lost count of how many Muggles he’d pulled into that corridor. How many cocks he’d had in his mouth, and how many mouths had been on his. Maybe that was the problem: too many nameless faces.

Harry didn’t try to kid himself out of thinking he didn’t want Draco, but Draco wasn’t someone Harry wanted to fuck and forget. He liked how Draco had turned himself around, he liked Draco’s smile and laughter when he talked with Mark and couldn’t help but being frustrated that Draco still didn’t act as friendly with Harry as he was with Mark.

Deciding that he needed to offer an olive branch and try harder to get Draco’s attention, Harry got up early on Friday morning and went to Draco’s shop. From across the street, he watched as Draco moved around the shop, arranging displays and, exactly at eight o’clock, Draco unlocked the front door.

Harry crossed the street and entered, the little bell over the door announcing his arrival.

“Potter, can I help you with something?” Draco asked from behind the counter, adjusting the cuffs of his sleeves as he glared at Harry.

“You didn’t come out last night, so I just wanted to check in on you before I head off to work,” Harry said, flustered that he sounded like a worried parent.

“Why do you care?”

“I’d hoped that we could get past everything that happened at school,” Harry said as he looked around, “I thought we were becoming friends. You’d rung up Mark to inform him you weren’t attending, so I thought I’d check in on you, it’s what friends do.”

“Again, I don’t need you to check in on me, Potter,” Draco said. “And why does it matter if I didn’t show last night? You weren’t there last Friday!”

“Angelina had her baby last week so I was at the hospital,” Harry answered. Draco gave him a blank stare. “You know, Angelina Weasley? George Weasley’s wife.”

“Oh, yeah. Weasley,” Draco said.“She alright?”

“Yeah, she’s great and Fred’s doing great, too.” Draco raised an eyebrow and Harry hastened to clarify, “They named the baby after—"

“I know whom it’s after, Potter.”

Harry could’ve slapped himself on the forehead. “I am sorry, I didn’t come here to talk about—to bring up old—" Harry paused to take a breath and stop himself blundering on. “I just wanted to make sure you were alright. Maybe I’ll see you tonight?”

“I doubt it. I think I am going to Rain tonight. I’ll be there tomorrow. I’ve got a date, of sorts, I think, I am sure you know all about it.”

“Why would I know about it?” Harry asked, trying to figure out why Draco thought he would know he had a date, even as his stomach tightened at the thought of Draco on a date with someone else.

“Whatever, I’ll see you, Potter. Unless there’s something else?” Draco raised an eyebrow with his question.

“No. Have a good time at Rain. I’ll see you tomorrow night then, maybe.” Harry didn’t wait for Draco to respond and turned around and walked away as quickly as he could. Mark hadn’t mentioned anything about Draco having a date, but maybe that was because he knew Harry wouldn’t like it.

*_*_*_*

The next night Harry got to the club extra early, with a drink in hand he went up to the balcony to watch for Draco to arrive. When Draco walked in an hour later, Harry almost fell off his chair -- he was dressed in entirely in black, his silk shirt and trousers looked like they could have been painted on. Casting a disllusionment charm on himself, Harry watched as Draco chatted with Mark, sipping at a cocktail until a man with dark curly hair and glasses walked up to them.

Harry gripped the balcony railing tightly as he watched Draco laughing and allowing himself to be led on to the dance floor. Draco obviously had gotten over his “I’m not bent” phase, Harry thought bitterly as he watched the man leaned against Draco, grind his ass against him as he kissed Draco’s neck and Draco ran his hands through the man’s hair.

They were talking as they danced, and Harry wished he had a pair of extendable ears to listen to what they were saying. Forcing himself to try and be happy for Draco, he watched the two dance until the Muggle pulled out his mobile and walk a few steps away to talk.

After the man ended the call, he pulled Draco to him, Harry was usually turned on watching other couples out on the dance floor, kissing and oblivious to everyone else, but his chest burned with jealousy as he watched Draco and his date going at it. The man seemed intent on devouring Draco’s tonsils while running his hands under Draco’s shirt.

Harry watched as the couple walked off the dance floor and then Draco’s date headed for the exit, leaving Draco standing next to Mark. Harry waited until he could trust himself to not show any emotions and then headed down to the main floor to talk to Draco and Mark.

Draco sprang up from his stool when Harry greeted them both.

“Harry, you missed him again!” Mark said, shaking his head.

“I did? Oh, that’s too bad. But I do think I caught a glimpse of him from the other side of the room, as everyone turned to watch you two snogging,” Harry answered, wondering why Draco rolled his eyes at that. “It was quite the sight to see, actually.” He tried to sound teasing but to his dismay Draco turned and walked away without saying anything. Harry watched in frustration as Draco headed for the balcony.

“What’s wrong with him?” Harry turned in frustration to Mark.

“Maybe he’s upset that Sebastian had to leave, got a phone call and just took off.”

“Are you sure Sebastian is single? Maybe he got summoned home by an angry wife or boyfriend.”

“He’s seems like a nice fella, definitely not one of the players.” Mark took a sip of his drink, “Maybe he’s confused.”

“About what?” Harry turned to look back at where Draco had disappeared up the stairs.

“You two have a lot of history, and Sebastian looks a bit like you--”

“Leave off. Draco isn’t likely to pick someone just because he looks like me, and he barely tolerates my presence.”

“That’s one way of looking at it.” Mark smiled.

Harry set his drink on the bar, “I’m going to go talk to him.” Mark gave a laugh and said good luck as Harry walked away.

Draco was sitting on one of the sofas in the upstairs lounge, his legs stretched out in front of him, and he glared at Harry as he walked up.

“Are you going to tell me what’s the matter?”

“Don’t act like you’re just all so innocent, Potter,” Draco retorted. “I know what you’re doing.”

“What am I doing?” Harry hoped that Draco hadn’t figured out that he’d been spying on him while he was in the club.

“You told everyone here to keep away from me? So you could put a claim on me?” Draco spat out the words.

He took a deep breath of relief when he realized that Draco was mad at him for something else entirely. “Mark told you that, did he? It wasn’t to place my claim on you—that’s just how these—I mean Muggles, operate. Once you tell someone to stay away from them or to not hurt them, they make it seem like I am an Alpha or something and I’ve placed my assertion. I just—I told you this before, Draco—"

Draco rolled his eyes at Harry, and Harry stumbled to try and explain himself, “I want to be your friend and I thought we were sort of becoming that over these past few months. I just know how tough it can be when you’re new into the culture. I just didn’t want you to hate Muggles if a seedy one tried to take advantage of you. So, I just wanted to ensure that you simply had the best Muggle-Wizard interaction.”

“And Sebastian?” Draco asked.

“Well, I haven’t met the bloke, but from what I hear, he sounds like a decent Muggle,” Harry answered, it was clearly the wrong answer because Draco glared at him and stalked away, muttering ‘right’ under his breath.

Harry spent the next week mulling over the disaster that was his life. His dreams at night were filled with Draco, an unnerving blend of the Draco Malfoy from Hogwarts, the sneering, nasty Draco that morphed into the Draco he knew from the club. The Draco who laughed and shined under the club lights for everyone but Harry.

At work things weren’t any better, he and Ron were still being given useless assignments and Ron was certain that it was because Robards was still pissed at Harry for the whole Lucas thing.

The cap to the week was when Charlie Floo-called again, and Harry stammered foolishly when Charlie asked how Mark was doing. Harry couldn’t tell him that Mark was obviously trying to move on from Charlie with a worthless series of one-night stands, with anyone who looked vaguely like Charlie.

Then Thursday came around and Harry almost decided not to go to the club. He knew that Draco would be there with the Sebastian and Harry didn’t think he could handle any more of the hate-glares that Draco liked to throw at him. He needn’t have worried however, Draco spent the time molesting his date on the dance floor. Harry realized just what a fool he was being about Draco. Resolving to not waste any more time on him, Harry stormed out of the club only to nearly trip over Draco.

“Malfoy, you’re leaving?” Harry said, surprised that Draco had left his date inside.

“Yeah, I suppose I am,” Draco said stiffly as he looked up and down the street, it had rained recently and the light from the streetlamps reflected on the slick pavement.

“I just came out for some air. I saw you in there; with Sebastian, I presume,” Harry said, trying to make it seem like he hadn’t been bothered by Malfoy’s antics.

“Yet, you didn’t come by to say hello.”

“Well, you seemed sort of occupied,” Harry said, trying to keep his emotions in check.

“Perhaps tomorrow night then? A proper introduction?” Draco said in a friendly tone that left Harry confused at the sudden change in attitude. He nodded in agreement and watched as Draco hailed a taxi cab and got in with a brief nod.

Resolving to show Malfoy that he wasn’t obsessed by him, Harry called up Scott, one of the Muggles in his address book, and arranged to meet him the next night. Harry showed up early and sat talking with Mark. When Draco joined them, there was no sign of Sebastian.

“Where’s your bloke?” Harry asked.

“We didn’t set any definite time, just planned to meet sometime tonight,” Draco said.

Harry was relieved when Scott came up to them. Harry turned to look at him and grinned. “Oh hey, you’re early,” Harry said, enjoying the surprised look on Draco’s face as Scott put his arm around Harry’s waist, giving his arse a squeeze as he did so. “Well, see you in a bit.”

Harry led Scott onto the dance floor and felt a flash of irritation as Scott immediately became all hands. Harry remembered with a curse why he’d put a red X next to the man’s name in his address book. He tried to evade the hands that were trying to slip past the waistband of his jeans as he twisted to see where Draco was. Harry growled as he caught a glimpse of Draco heading up the stairs with Sebastian.

“What’s wrong?” Scott asked, as he attempted to lick Harry’s ear and Harry had to bat him away.

“Nothing.” Harry glanced up to the upstairs lounge balcony where he could see Draco sitting on the lap of the Sebastian fellow, practically dry-humping him. “Bad day at work, I should’ve cancelled, just not in the mood tonight,” he said lamely at Scott who had stepped away and was glaring at Harry with his hands on his hips.

“Then I’ll go find someone who _is_ in the mood.” Scott said with a toss of his head and stalked away. Harry gave one last glance up at Draco and his date and walked back to the bar where Mark sat on his usual stool. Ordering them both a drink Harry leaned with his back against the bar watching the dancers writhing under the lights, the bass from the music so heavy that he could feel it under his feet.

“Why do we do this, Mark?” Harry asked, for the first time really questioning why he came to the club night after night, week after week. It was the same song and dance each time: anonymous blow jobs and back alley fucks with blokes he barely recognized the next week.

“To remind us that we’re still alive,” Mark said, so quietly that Harry could barely hear him. “That life has to go on.”

“But if this is all it is, is it worth it?” Harry turned to look at him, “Are you happier, here and now, without Charlie?”

“I can’t have him. All three of you, you live in a different world. I can never be a part of that world so there’s no point in try—”

“There are Muggles in our world, we told you that. A lot of the wizards and witches actually come from Muggle families, they don’t give up their families when they—”

“Drop it, Harry.” Mark turned to face the bar again. “Draco really does like you, I know he does, he watches you all the time when you are out on the floor. I don’t know why he’s bothering with Sebastian.”

Harry took another sip of his drink, grimacing at the bitterness of it. “I told you before, it’s complicated. We were rivals at school, and a lot of bad things happened that can’t just be dismissed.”

“But that was years ago.”

“I know, but, we truly were enemies, I don’t fault him for not trusting me now.”

“You seem willing to trust him.”

“Yeah, but he can’t stand the sight of me, still.”

“Give him time. He is just figuring out he’s gay, and doesn’t know what to make of it.”

“I think he’s fully over the denial.” Harry said with a painful laugh as he looked to where Draco was snogging his date. “I’m going to take off.”

“Night, Harry.”

*_*_*_*

Harry slept little that night, Staring up at the ceiling he thought about the conversation he’d had with Mark, and how happy Draco had looked with Sebastian. By dawn, Harry realized that he needed to get over his crush on Draco and just be happy for him. With that in mind, the next night when he spotted the couple on the dance floor he walked up to them, determined to introduce himself to Sebastian and show Draco that he was his friend.

As he walked up to them, he was about to tap Draco on the shoulder when he heard Draco saying his name. Sebastian stepped back from Draco giving him a confused look. “Who is Potter?”

Hope surged in Harry as he realized that Draco hadn’t just said his name because he’d seen Harry walking up. “Well, this is awkward,” Harry said, as Draco turned towards him.

Draco did a double-take, an expression of horror on his face as he looked from Sebastian to Harry, and back again. Draco’s mouth opened and closed in confusion before he backed away and ran off the dance floor, pushing the other couples on the floor in his hurry to get away. Harry watched him leave in confusion and then looked over at Sebastian who was looking just as dumbfounded.

“Uhm, sorry. We haven’t met. I am Harry Potter” Harry held out his hand and Sebastian shook it.

“Potter?” Sebastian stared at him.

“Yeah, Draco and I’ve have been friends for a long time.” Harry didn’t care that he was stretching the truth as he watched as Sebastian looking at him from head to toe, hoping he was noticing how similar in looks they were. “I think I’ll just go see where he’s gone off to,” Harry said, and without waiting for a response he headed for the exit.

As he searched the empty street for a sign of Draco, Harry’s mind was racing as to why Draco could have possibly been calling Sebastian by Harry’s name. Had he just made a mistake? Or could it be something more, had Draco been pretending to himself that Sebastian was Harry? Not scarcely daring to hope that was the case, Harry hurried down the street, he needed to find Draco.

From the mouth of the alleyway, Harry carefully pulled out his wand and after making sure there was no one about he cast a detection spell . At the far end of the alley a tell-tale glimmer of magic appeared. Draco, Harry thought with satisfaction, Draco had cast a disillusionment charm and was leaning against the brick wall. Harry hurried towards the shimmer of magic that revealed Draco’s location.

“Draco, what’s the matter?” Harry spoke to the blank wall, knowing Draco had to be there, hiding.

“You can see me?”

“Yeah, the Aurors are trained in detection of several veiling spells and all the impression Charms—it helps catch the suspects easily…” Harry paused. “But that’s a story for another day. What happened inside? Why did you run?”

“I thought— I thought he was you, you were him.” Draco’s shadow pointed towards the end of the alley towards the club.

“Who?” Harry asked.

“Blue eyes,” Draco said.

“Sebastian?”

“Yeah, when he approached me, the way he talked to me. Well, everything about him reminded me of you. And somehow I thought it was you trying to trick me.”

Harry wished he could see Draco’s face, but he was still hidden by the spell, and all that was visible was Draco’s shadow cast by the dim alley lights shining down. “You thought he was me?”

Draco’s voice sounded miserable. “I thought that maybe you—I don’t know—fancied me and since I always refused to dance with you or spent time with you when Mark wasn’t around that—maybe you thought you could get me to fall for you. Besides, you two were never in the same vicinity—so it was easy to assume—that you’d turn yourself into a blue-eyed Muggle to fool me.”

“Draco, that’s—”

“Besides,” Draco interrupted Harry. “You’re an Auror; you’re probably used to going undercover all the time. Assuming a different identity could come easily to you.”

“Draco, I would never make you fall for me by pretending to be someone else. That wouldn’t make any sense,” Harry said as he rubbed his face in frustration as he tried to comprehend what Draco had told him

“It would when you would just want to have me on. A good story to tell your mates at the Burrow.”

“Is that really what you think of me?” Harry felt numb; he’d known Draco didn’t like him but that he thought so little of him was demoralizing “So you’ve fallen for Sebastian, then?”

“I—” Draco didn’t say anything else and Harry knew that it must be true.

“Sebastian must be looking for you, you should go back to the poor bloke,” Harry said, stepping aside so that Draco could pass.

“Harry!” Mark was running towards them. “Have you seen Draco? That bloke Sebastian is looking for him. Why did he run off like that?”

Harry nodded to where Draco’s shadow was against the wall. “Why are you staring at the wall?” Mark asked.

With a laugh Harry realized that Mark couldn’t see possibly see that Draco was hiding, and the git hadn’t said anything to give away his hiding spot. Taking out his wand he cast towards Draco, “ _Finite Incantatem_.”

Mark gave a jump as Draco appeared in front of him.

“Potter! He’s a—” Draco protested.

“Muggle, I know. But he’s aware,” Harry said.

“But I thought—”

“Charlie sort of set the curtains on fire,” Mark said. “I didn’t know what had happened, but after a few more accidents like that he didn’t have a choice but explain it to me. I was scared, but he gave me the option of making me forget and I turned him down.”

“If the Ministry finds out—”

“The Ministry knows,” Harry said. “As soon as Charlie told me, I talked to Kingsley about it. With Mark’s permission—we’ve placed him under a spell that even though he’s aware of our existence, he isn’t allowed to discuss it with any Muggle who isn’t already aware. It’s physically impossible for him to talk about it.” Mark nodded in agreement.

“Oh.” Draco straightened his clothing and Harry felt a surge of disappointment as he recognized that Draco was tidying up in order to see Sebastian.

“Sebastian,” Mark reminded Draco. “He’s in there, and deserves an explanation. I’ll go tell him that you’ll be in shortly.” Harry and Draco watched as left, Harry took a deep sigh and faced the truth.

“Come on,” Harry said to Draco, holding out his hand to him. Draco looked at dubiously, but allowed him to pull him away from the wall.

“So Weasley really broke it off with him because of the long distance thing?” Draco asked.

Glad to have something else to talk about other than how much Draco liked Sebastian, Harry explained how Mark had thought that Charlie would be giving up too much if he were with Mark, and Charlie hadn’t been able to convince him that it could work.

“So, now Mark is here, night after night, working to find a replacement, an imitation Weasley?” Draco said.

“Yeah, but he knows, as we all do, I suppose, that an imitation is not the real thing,” Harry said as they reached the front entrance of the club where Sebastian was standing by the bouncer, waiting for Draco.

“Well, I’ll see you around, Draco,” Harry said, giving Sebastian a nod of acknowledgement and went back into the club without looking back.

Mark was waiting for him at the bar, and he handed Harry a shot glass. Harry didn’t even bother asking what it was as he tossed it back, shuddering as he felt the burn of the whiskey going down his throat.

“What happened?”

Harry shook his head, he wasn’t sure himself and he definitely didn’t feel like talking about it. “Buy you another?”

“Sure, why not. Don’t have to work tomorrow, and God only knows I have nothing good to wake up to…”

The truth in Mark’s words made Harry realize what he was facing for the weeks and months to come. He motioned to the bartender over and ordered two more shots. Mark gave a smile as they clinked their glasses together.

Harry felt a hand on his shoulder and he turned to see Draco standing next to him.

“Draco? What’s the matter?”

Draco grabbed him and started kissing him, his hands grasping Harry’s face as he pressed his lips against Harry’s. Startled, Harry didn’t move until he felt Draco starting to pull away and his addled brain finally comprehended the fact that _Draco was kissing him_. Harry dropped the shot glass he was holding and slid his arms around Draco’s waist to keep him close.

The kiss tasted of whiskey and sour lemons, and _Draco_. Harry’s heartbeat raced as Draco threaded his fingers through Harry’s hair. Harry didn’t know why it was happening, but he wasn’t going to argue as Draco’s lips moved against his.

When at last Draco pulled back Harry kept his hands on Draco’s waist and just looked at him, hoping for an explanation.

Draco smiled at him. “I don’t wish to settle for an imitation.”

Harry blinked as he took in what Draco must mean. “So, not fallen for Sebastian, then?”

“No, I’ve fallen for you, and have come to the conclusion that I am definitely not not-bent.”

Harry grinned at him and he heard Mark giving a hoot in the background as he pulled Draco in for another kiss before tugging on his hand and leading him to the dance floor. After weeks of having to watch Draco dance with others, Harry wanted his turn.

*_*_*_*

Two weeks later Charlie arrived in town for the naming ceremony. Charlie had been skeptical when Harry had Floo called him earlier to tell him that he and Draco were together, but he’d agreed to meet them on Saturday for breakfast at the Cafe Renault. Draco was coming with Harry to the ceremony and Harry hoped to get Charlie on their side before they had to face the rest of the Weasleys who had taken the news about Draco with some trepidation.

Breakfast had gone well, Draco and Charlie had both been on their best behavior and Harry given a sigh of relief when they’d stood up to leave the table and Charlie had shaken Draco’s hand.

They were standing outside the cafe chatting when Harry saw Mark weaving his way towards them on the crowded pavement filled with Saturday morning shoppers and mothers pushing prams. Mark stopped about twenty feet away, his mouth falling open as he saw that Charlie was with Harry and Draco. It was then that Harry realized that Mark wasn’t alone, as the man standing next to him said something in his ear that made Mark shake his head.

“Awkward,” Draco whispered in Harry’s ear and Harry couldn’t disagree as Mark closed the distance on the pavement. Charlie didn’t say anything; instead he was studying Mark’s friend from head to toe, likely assessing his muscular build so like his own. They were of the same height, and if it weren’t for his dirty blond hair they could be brothers.

“Mark, we were just leaving,” Harry said hastily as Charlie turned to glare at Mark, making Mark straighten his shoulders defiantly. Fortunately, another party came out of the cafe and they were all forced to move to make room, giving Harry a chance to move between Charlie and Mark.

“Hi, Harry, Draco, uhm, Charlie.” Mark swallowed hard. “This is, erm, Brandon. Brandon, these are some of my friends from the club I usually go to. Harry, Draco and, erm, Charlie.”

“Brendan, actually,” he said, as he held out his hand to Harry who shook it. Charlie’s eyes went wide and he stared at Mark.

“Brendan, right, sorry...” Mark said, a bright red flush rising in his cheeks as Charlie continued to glower at him. Harry wished desperately that they had gone somewhere else for breakfast.

Draco nudged him as no one said anything else and Harry frantically tried to think of something to get them away before Charlie did something he would regret. “Well, we have to, erm, go. There’s a family thing we need to get to in Devon.”

“Okay, Harry, fancy bumping into you all,” Mark said and he started to turn away, but Charlie moved, blocking the entrance.

“I need to talk to Mark. I’m sure _Brandon_ won’t mind, will you?” Charlie spoke directly to Brendan and Harry winced at the threatening tone in his voice.

Brendan looked over at Mark. “Something going on between you two?”

“Yes.”

“No.”

Charlie and Mark spoke simultaneously. Charlie clenched his fists as he glared at Mark.

Harry shook his head, and tried to pull Charlie away but he stood his ground. “C’mon Charlie, this isn’t the time or place.”

“It’s okay. I’d better talk to him.” Mark looked at Brendan, a deep red flush rising in his cheeks, “Why don’t you go in and get us a table and I’ll be in in a minute.”

Brendan hesitated and with a small half-smile shook his head. “I’m really not hungry and it seems to me that you two have more than a little talking to do. I’ll be head off, if you think you’ll be okay.” He gave a doubtful look towards Charlie who’d taken a step closer towards Mark.

“I’ll be fine. Thanks, Brendan. Sorry about this.”

Mark awkwardly held out his hand to him and Brendan gave a laugh as he shook it. “You have my number, if things don’t work out.” He said with a wave of his hand as he turned and walked away.

Mark watched him leave and then turned to glare at Charlie. “What was that about?”

“Like I said, I think it is long past time we talked this out, but it needs to be done in private. Do you trust me?” Charlie asked as he tentatively took ahold of Mark’s arm. Charlie let out a sigh of relief as Mark nodded and stepped closer to him. Harry scarcely had time to cast a disillusionment charm before Charlie Disapparated with a pop, taking Mark with him.

Draco turned to Harry, his eyes wide with shock. “He just Disapparated with a Muggle!”

Harry laughed ruefully and nodded. “It isn’t the first time, after Charlie had to tell Mark that he was a wizard, he used Apparating to convince Mark that he wasn’t just talking crazy.”

“Do you think he’ll be able to convince Mark?”

Harry slid his arm around Draco’s waist. “I hope it so. When those two were together, I’d never seen a couple more in love. Maybe this is what they needed to realize that they are better off together than apart.”

Draco nodded. “It does provide us with a rather delicious opportunity.”

“What’s that?”

“We have the rest of the morning to ourselves before having to show up at the Weasleys.” Draco slid his hands down Harry’s back. “I think you should take me your place and you can remind me again of all the benefits of being bent.”

Harry laughed and tugged Draco to him by his coat jacket, “All the benefits of being bent? Well, let’s start with kissing and see where we can go from there.”

**Author's Note:**

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